On Our Way
by odd-gelato
Summary: Two strangers at tipping points in their lives meet by chance, and decide to take a road trip that will change both of them for the better. (Human AU)
1. Chapter 1

_this idea came to me in a flash yesterday and i had to start writing it immediately. there's not much to this chapter, but i just wanted to get the ball rolling! i've already got some of the next chapter written, so it shouldn't be too long coming. i hope y'all like road trips as much as i do. (titled after the song "we're on our way" by radical face)_

* * *

When Blinky stumbled out of the taxi and into the bar, he was already three sheets to the wind, and he had every intention of getting even drunker. It took him two tries to slide into a seat at the counter, and he accidentally bumped into the person on the next stool in the process.

This earned a displeased grunt from the other patron. Once Blinky was settled in, he took a good look at his neighbor, preparing to apologize for the disruption. "Oh, my," he said instead, eyes wide. "You are _very_ big."

"Big" was an understatement, with "hulking brute" closer to doing him justice. He was broad-shouldered and easily almost seven feet tall, his tattooed arms strong enough to crush a skull in the crook of one elbow—and that having happened did not seem outside the realm of possibility. He'd clearly been in a number of fights over the years, his knuckles a mass of scars and his nose crooked in a way that implied it had been broken on multiple occasions and healed badly each time. Simply put, he was the most terrifying person Blinky had ever seen.

He also had absolutely _gorgeous_ green eyes.

Blinky leaned against the bar, propping his cheek in his hand. "So… come here often?"

The big man gave him a bemused smile. "First time." He had a thick accent Blinky couldn't quite place. Russian, maybe, or something more Nordic.

"S'that so." Was the room tilting? No, just his head. "In that case, lemme buy you a drink!"

* * *

Sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, and Blinky shoved his head under his pillow to escape it. Except, hang on, since when did his pillow smell like stale cigarettes? He jolted upright, immediately regretting it when his stomach lurched. Pressing his hands to his head, he tried to will the nausea away. This was, without a doubt, the worst hangover he'd ever had.

Once the wave of sickness passed, he took in his surroundings. There wasn't much to take in—it was a shitty motel room, musty and falling apart. On the nightstand was a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water, and Blinky reached for them gratefully as he tried to remember how he got here. Most of it was blurry, and he couldn't summon up any specifics, but he got the distinct impression he'd spent quite a lot of time with that big guy. Maybe… no, he was still wearing most of his clothes, except the suit jacket that was tossed over the chair in the corner, his black tie hanging half out of its pocket. Ah, well. He would've wanted to be able to remember something like that, anyway.

Another, much less pleasant thought occurred to him. He patted his pants, looking for his phone, before realizing these were his fancy slacks that didn't have pockets. Sliding out of bed, he crossed the room and fished around in his jacket until he found it. He checked the lock screen and groaned. Twenty missed calls from his mother, and seven voicemails. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache worsening despite the painkillers.

The door to the bathroom swung open, and the big man stepped out. Blinky nearly dropped his phone in surprise. "Oh! Hello, there!"

"Morning," was the rumbled response.

Blinky swallowed, drying his suddenly sweaty palms on his slacks. "I'm afraid I don't recall if I got your name."

"Argh."

Blinky blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Short for Arghaumont."

"Ah," Blinky said. It wasn't like he was in any position to think someone's name was weird. "I'm Blinky."

Argh nodded. "Yes. Blinkous Galadrigal." He stumbled a little over Blinky's last name.

"So we _were_ introduced." Blinky sighed, rubbing his forehead. "My apologies. Last night is a bit… unclear. Where are we?"

"Motel near bar," Argh replied. "You didn't want to go home."

If Blinky was being perfectly honest with himself, which he wasn't often these days, he still didn't want to go home. But where else could he go? "I don't mean to sound rude, but… why are you still here?"

Argh shrugged, a motion like the shifting of mountains. "You say, 'Let's go on road trip.' I say, 'Sure, why not?' Too drunk to drive, so I bring you here. We sleep, go in morning."

It took Blinky a moment to process this: first, that he'd drunkenly proposed a road trip to a stranger in a bar; next, that the stranger had said yes, and even continued to be committed to the idea now that they were both sober. "Did I… say where we were going?"

Argh shook his head wordlessly.

"Is there somewhere _you_ want to go?"

Another silent head shake.

Blinky looked at his phone. Seven voicemails from dear old mum… and all of them furious, no doubt. He tugged at the crisp white collar of the nicest shirt he owned (though it was significantly less crisp now), then let his arm drop limply to his side. Slowly, his hand curled into a fist, and his grip on his phone tightened. "I'll be right back," he said.

* * *

Within five minutes, Blinky had returned from the motel's front office, chewing a piece of gum and holding a map of the United States. He closed the room's door behind him with more force than strictly necessary. After unfolding the map, he spat the gum into his hand and pulled it in two, using the parts to stick the upper corners of the map to the wall. Stepping back, he considered his handiwork. "Now, if only we had a dart or something…"

There was a metallic _snick_ as Argh produced a butterfly knife from nowhere and expertly unfolded it in one hand.

A part deep in Blinky's chest had already snapped, and he found himself taking this in stride. "Perfect! Now, cover your eyes and throw it at the map!"

Argh frowned in concern, then gave a slight shrug and did as he was asked. Blinky winced when the knife went all the way into the wall, but couldn't bring himself to truly care. Something new and restless was buzzing under his skin. He examined the name underlined by the vibrating hilt. "Arcadia Oaks," he announced. "Argh, my new friend, say goodbye to New Jersey—we're going to California!"


	2. Chapter 2

They checked out of the motel shortly before noon and walked back to the bar, where Argh had a dusty black Honda CRV waiting in the parking lot. The car was ancient and seemed to have seen nearly as much action as Argh, covered in all manner of scrapes and dings.

"Is that a bullet hole?" Blinky asked, pausing to look at the trunk door.

"Don't worry about it," Argh replied as he slid into the driver's seat. The whole car rocked with his shifting weight. Blinky scrambled into the passenger seat and buckled himself in as the engine started up.

"So," Argh said, backing out of the parking space. "Man with plan. What now?"

Blinky stared out the window. A wobbly scratch ran diagonal across the entire pane. That was going to drive him insane. "Well," he said. "There are a few things I'd like to pick up from my apartment, and I'm sure you want to pack as well."

Argh made a noise of assent, so Blinky gave him directions. Blinky's building wasn't too far, and Argh dropped him off in front of it.

"Meet me back here when you're ready," Blinky said, and Argh nodded once before driving away.

Reluctantly, Blinky made the trek up the stairs to his apartment. He closed the door behind him and tried not to think, except there was the couch and he'd just been _sitting_ there when-

He knocked a hand to the side of his head to cut off that line of thought and hurried into his bedroom. There was an old duffel bag under his bed, and he dragged it out and began to stuff supplies into it—mostly T-shirts, a couple of button-downs, underwear, socks, and an extra pair of jeans. He retrieved his emergency envelope of cash from behind a framed poster and slid it into a zippered pocket in the lining of the duffel, then went to the bathroom for his toothbrush. Once he was done packing, he showered and got into clothes more suited for traveling than the ones he'd been wearing, then wandered into the kitchen to find something to eat.

A photo on the fridge caught his eye, and his throat went tight. After a moment, he plucked it from under its magnet and slipped it into his back pocket. Maybe later he'd be able to think about it… but that was later, later. First, he had to take care of something else. Unlocking his phone, he selected a contact from his favorites list.

It rang twice before being answered. "_Hello?_"

"I'm going on leave," Blinky said.

The silence that followed somehow managed to be packed to the brim with sheer outrage. "_And good afternoon to you, too,_" said the elderly voice on the other end of the line in an icy tone. "_You do realize that classes start in two days?_"

Blinky pinched his brow. "Yes, Vendel, I realize it's poor timing, and I'm truly sorry for that, but…"

Vendel sighed. "_I assume seeing your family again went badly_," he said, wearily but with genuine sympathy.

"It was breathtaking," Blinky replied. "I'd say you should have been there to see it, but you actually respect me for some reason and I'd hate to lose that." The picture felt like lead in his pocket, weighing him down. "I'm sorry, Vendel, I am. I just… I need some time, y'know?"

"_Yes,_" Vendel said gently. "_I know. I'll talk to the rest of the board for you—honestly, taking time off in these circumstances is to be expected. But, Blinkous… Don't do anything stupid._"

Blinky let out a nervous bark of laughter. "Well, you know me!"

"_That is precisely why I'm worried,_" Vendel said with sudden severity. "_I'll be able to convince the board to let you take a break, but I'm concerned about the reason you're choosing now of all times to _stop_ being a workaholic._"

For a moment, Blinky wasn't sure how to respond. Vendel was one of his closest colleagues (as well as one of his only friends), and Blinky didn't want to lie to him. "It's… I…" He sagged. "I'm not getting any younger," he said quietly. "I want to do a bit of traveling, see more of the world before it's… before it's too late."

"_I understand,_" Vendel said. "_Just… Take care of yourself_."

Blinky smiled, his headache receding. "I'll send you postcards."

"_If you must_."

"Raunchy ones," Blinky added, never able to resist giving the old goat some grief.

"_No, Blinkous_."

* * *

A few minutes later, Blinky was sitting on the front stoop of his apartment building, waiting for Argh. He wished he'd thought to exchange numbers, so he wasn't just sitting here like a fool wondering when (or even _if_) Argh would return. To take his mind off this, he opened his phone's music library and created a new playlist titled "Blinky's Marvelous Travel Mix." He then spent the next hour adding songs to it, until the black Honda screeched to a stop next to the curb.

"Get in," Argh said urgently.

Blinky stood up, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. "Where have you been?"

"Had to take long way," Argh replied. "Hurry."

His tone brooked no argument, and Blinky tossed his bag in the back before buckling himself into the passenger seat. Argh hit the gas, and Blinky learned firsthand what the "long way" meant as Argh wove an increasingly complex path through the guts of the city.

"I'm going to be sick if you don't cool it," Blinky mumbled after the fifteenth abrupt turn, one hand pressed to his mouth and the other clinging to the handle above the door. He usually didn't get carsick, but the last dregs of the hangover were still clinging to him.

Argh didn't respond, the line of his shoulders drawn tight and his eyes flicking regularly to the rearview mirror, but he did slow a little and take more care going around corners. It wasn't until they left the city limits that the tension finally drained out of him.

Belatedly, a light bulb in Blinky's head flicked on. "Are you in a gang?" he exclaimed, louder than he meant to.

"Not anymore," Argh said.

This was a worrying answer. This _should_ have been a worrying answer.

But he gave it with such relief, like the weight of the world had been lifted off him. The hard lines of his face smoothed out, making him look years younger, and he flexed his gnarled fingers. Blinky wondered how many times someone needed to break their hands to end up like that, wondered what that kind of life was like, and decided to let it be.

It was all behind them now, anyway.


End file.
